


A Demonic Error: Just Who are the Bad Idea Bears?

by WarnerHedgehog



Category: Avenue Q - Fandom
Genre: Avenue Q, Chaos, Demonology, Demons, Gen, Humour, Magic, Mistakes, Summoning, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 18:01:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14025642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarnerHedgehog/pseuds/WarnerHedgehog
Summary: Where did the two squeaky-voiced weirdoes come from?





	A Demonic Error: Just Who are the Bad Idea Bears?

A Demonic Error  
Halloween is the time traditionally given to witches, ghosts, zombies and assorted other spiritual entities. Demons often feel forgotten at this time of year, and it’s fair to say they don’t like it. This is not the case at Number 23, Avenue B: for this was the residence of Earnest CrabApple, demonologist. Well I say demonologist but truth be told, he has ambitions of becoming a demonologist but lies to himself about it. A lot.   
His attempts at summoning demons have resulted in numerous amphibians, a rather angry groundhog and a vaguely hellish lizard that wasn’t very impressed. His most successful attempt to date involved a demonic hand coming through the Diabolical Portal and dropping off some demonic trash. He almost gave up, but a late surge of manic determination made him completely re-evaluate his work and try to rectify whatever problems existed in his summoning rituals and paraphernalia.  
His investigations turned up the following problems: The ram’s skull turned out to be that of a nanny goat with some antelope horns glued on the sides, the runic octagon on the floor had uneven sides as well a couple of misspelled runes, the sacrificial virgins had a terrible habit about lying about their sexual history, his book of satanic incantations was a cheap and badly made copy and consequently contained numerous errors and typos, the presence of holier-than-thou snobbish Christians next door gave off some pretty bad occult vibes so they had to be chased off(murdered) and his lisp made pronouncing some of the critical phrases and chants awkward and difficult.   
He worked hard for many weeks trying to remove, repair and generally kick the arse out of any errors that he could find until on October the 31st he was ready. His rubbish book of summoning rituals was replaced by the somewhat better Ericus Faustus by Terrence P, The rams skull was now the skull of an actual ram, the octagon had been completely redone and measured out properly, the neighbours had been driven off, except for the one family member who had the right…qualification. This time he was going to do it, Satan Damn it, this time would see a demon appear in his...he looked around and despaired. If only this house had a basement or a crypt or a dungeon or something. The garage just didn’t have that frankensteinian air about it. He’d put mock-rock stone cladding on the inside to make it look more dungeoney, but it still had a strip light and that had managed to completely ruin the effect. He glowered at it and snarled: next year he was going to replace it with a fire-torch-effect LED. Never mind that now he thought: let the summoning commence.   
He opened the book on the lectern and pronounced the summoning spell very carefully, deliberately sounding each phrase and intonation.   
There was a crackle of energy in the air and a small column of light appeared in the centre of the octagon. The column widened and gave of a low hum.   
Unbeknown to Earnest, inside his lovely new ram’s skull lurked a rather creative spider. It had just made a web in the form of a pentagram and had just stood back to admire its handiwork. If it had been geometrically correct all would have been fine, but alas it wasn’t symmetrical and consequently caused the summoning to go awry.   
The column of light was flashing through all the colours of the rainbow in rapid succession and making an ear-shattering screech. When the madness of it seems to fill the room, it stopped and where the light was stood two small fuzzy demonic entities. One was blue and the other yellow. They quizzically looked around at their new surroundings.   
“W...w...what are you?” asked Earnest.  
The blue one focussed on him “I’m Fuzzie!” it yelled in a high-pitched voice.  
“And I’m Fizzie!” cried the yellow one in a similarly high-pitched voice. “We’re demons! Yaaaaaaaaay!”  
“Yeeehaaawww!” Earnest yelled, “I’ve summoned demons! I’ve done it!”  
“You should have a bottle of wine to celebrate!” yelled an excited Fizzie.  
“An entire bottle!” Fuzzie joined in.  
“How about a whole case?” suggested Fizzie.  
“You need to go on a bender!” Fuzzie cried loudly.  
“Not a bad idea!” Earnest said to himself. “Magic me up some wine, demons. Do it now.”  
“You have to buy it. Magic is cheating.” Fuzzie said.  
“Cheating is so boring.” concurred Fizzie. “I hate cheaters.”  
“So do I! Cheaters must be punished!” Fuzzie cried in an over-happy way.  
“I like punishing cheaters!” yelled Fizzie, who then pulled out a large sword from seemingly nowhere, “We’re going to punish you and then we’re going to find some fun! Yaaaaaaaaay!”   
Earnest may have been a useless demonologist, but he wasn’t daft. He was prepared for something along these lines: He had a quick-fire banishment spell prepared, so he quickly barked out the 3-word spell which due to the presence of the wonky webby pentagram didn’t work entirely correctly.  
Before they could react, Fuzzie and Fizzie were enveloped in a large cylinder of orange sparkly light, which contracted to nothing, spiriting them away. “Stuff this demonology lark”, growled Earnest, “I’m going on holiday and when I come back I’m going to take up watercolour painting or something”. The whole thing had ground his patience for demonology to zero and besides, it was giving him a headache.   
As for the two manic demons, they awoke two days later in a dark space. Fuzzie peered around. Something was different: for one, he couldn’t remember who or what he was. His memory was a blank and he was feeling a mite peculiar. He knew he had a friend though, who appeared to be in a similar daze not too far away. He knew he liked fun and chaos. Chaos WAS fun. “Oh well,” he thought, “let’s find out where we are”. Further examination of the space they were in revealed a curtained window. He crawled over and peeked out: there was a street below with people wandering about. They looked like they needed some fun in their lives.   
“You ok?” he asked Fizzie.  
“Yeah. I’m good. I think.” she replied uncertainly.  
“I think we’re in an attic. Not sure where though.” he scanned the street below, looking for a hint or a clue. He spotted a road sign at the end of the street and squinted at it. “Avenue Q by the looks of it. This place looks like it needs cheering up: shall we have some fun?”  
Fizzie perked up. “That sounds like a great idea.”  
With that they hunted for a door so they could ‘cheer up’ the residents of Avenue Q. And cause mayhem, because mayhem was fun.


End file.
